


A legend of old

by Wiegenlied



Series: drabbles and prompt fills [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternative Universe - Ritual Sacrifice, Angst, forest deity Tom/Voldemort, ritual sacrifice Harry (or is he)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2020-10-25 13:53:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20725271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wiegenlied/pseuds/Wiegenlied
Summary: Prompt: fantasy AUHarry is selected as this cycle's 'Persephone,' a sacrifice that is offered once every seven years to forest deity Voldemort.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's for you, [Creatro](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creatrotera), [Snowy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowy_Rain), [Dani](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Im_A_Panda__Rawr) (*´▽`*)♡

"Harry Potter," Dumbledore called. His voice was frayed, old, and broken. He had failed his people once more. "The tribute for this cycle is Harry Potter."

The village froze for all but a moment before bursting into a cacophony of noise. Outraged cries, quiet gasps of relief, and murmured words of condolences blended together. _'Thank goodness it wasn't me,'_ some thought. _'Thank goodness it wasn't my child.'_  
  
Hermione sobbed, clutching Harry's hands in a crushing grip. Ron's gaze widened in horror, icy dread pooling in his lungs.

Harry's heart stuttered once, twice, before he finally caught his breath. He could protect them all, by going willingly. He could doom them all, by running away.

The choice wasn't difficult to make.

* * *

The village had a legend, you see. Every seven years, as the first rays of light would rise over the distant mountains, a great catastrophe would strike the land- in the shape of a typhoon, an immense earthquake, a disastrous drought- that would leave any and all life in ruins. Crops would rot, diseases would run rampant, and fresh water reserves would become poisoned. The people of the land fell into despair, at a loss for what to do. Distraught, a village elder, the wisest of their people, turned to nature itself to find a solution. _'A clearing within the Forbidden Forest,'_ they decided. _'The place where the barrier between realms is most thin.' _

The elder fell to the forest floor, coughing and wheezing as they struggled against the disease, the pain, the thirst._ 'I beseech you,'_ they called out. _'How can I save my people?'_

_'The answer is simple,'_ the forest called back. _'Present me with a soul worthy of all the lives that could be spared.'_

The people became desperate, their anguish fueling their pain. How could they measure the worthiness of a soul? From their character, their talents, their experiences? No one wanted to die, nor could they bring themselves to encourage anyone else to step forward.

_A fair decision,_ they decided. Collecting the names of all those above the age of majority, the village elder picked a person at random. The tribute chosen was then told to walk to the clearing where the forest had first spoken, and the catastrophe would be put to an end.

The village grieved for the member they had lost, but as history has proven, life began anew. Hope, hope was now tangibly felt. They were free!

But seven years later, the catastrophe still took place.

_'This was not our bargain,'_ the elder called out. _'A tribute was offered!'_

_'The answer is simple,'_ the forest called back once more. _'Present me with a soul worthy of all the lives that could be spared.'_

* * *

Preparations were made as the grains of time continued to slip by.

A bath, to clear away impurities. A simple tunic, to show humility. A shroud, to protect the sacrifice.

_A lotus flower, to gift the forest for its kindness._

Glistening tears continued to slip past Hermione's cheeks as she anointed Harry's forehead, the soft skin behind his ears, the pulse points on each wrist. "Harry," Ron whispered, voice rough, cracking, from where he stood guard. "It's time."

Slowly, Harry stood. He had a minute, two at most, before the rules dictated his departure.

_'Alone, before the sky begins to change from black to deep blue, into the forest,' the forest said. 'There, I will await you.'_

Despite everything, Harry's strongest emotion was that of relief. He would protect his people. For their smiles, for their futures, he would volunteer himself every time, in every life, if he could. A bittersweet, melancholic happiness spread through his veins as he turned to face Ron and Hermione. "I'll miss you," Harry whispered fiercely, risking a final embrace with his two closest friends despite the elder's warnings. "Be happy enough for my share, too."

Heart aching, but spirit ablaze, Harry walked. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The village had a legend, you see. One that began when the village had, unknowingly, misunderstood what was being asked of them. One that was ended with a boy, a lotus flower, and a millennium of waiting.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe this is happening, but, here it is- I'm moving this from being a snippet on discord to a work on AO3. Many, many thanks to everyone in my server who shared their ideas, encouragement, and excitement about this AU. This one's for you 💕
> 
> An extra special mention to the lovely and talented [Wolven](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolven_Spirits/pseuds/Wolven_Spirits) for being most incredible the beta for this chapter!

It was quiet, in the forest.

Harry had been making his journey to the innermost depths of the Forbidden forest since nightfall, when the final breaths of sunlight had become dying embers in the feverish sky. It seemed as though the shroud he wore, which was carefully woven, stitched, and blessed by the village elders during the seven intermediary years, truly held some form of protection for the wearer. He hadn’t come across a single insect, let alone one of the rumoured beasts that wandered the forest- vicious, deadly, ready to tear apart interlopers who made their way in after daylight.

The only exception to their attacks were, according to legend, the sacrifices. They belonged exclusively to the forest god, and their fate was determined by its whims. Flora and fauna alike understood, instinctively, to steer clear of the ‘chosen one.’ 

At least, that was how Dumbledore had explained it to the village. Something about hierarchy, or an innate compass of sorts. It would direct animals to head further back into the inky depths once the sacrifice made its entrance, ensuring all things harmful and benign in nature did not interact with the sacrifice before it had met the forest god.

_‘It’s a shame,’_ Harry thought to himself. _‘I would have liked to finally see the forest alive at night, what with how no one in the village has ever seen it after dark.’_

So he continued to walk, resolutely making his way to the supposed clearing he needed to be at by dawn. It was all very vague and mysterious and annoyingly unclear, what with how there were no specific instructions or directions on how to get there. It wasn’t like any of the previous sacrifices could give _feedback_ on their experience. 

_‘The journey was so-so,’ _they’d say._ ‘Not much entertainment to keep me going. Too long of a walk. At least I was too tired to feel any pain in the end.’_ Harry chuckled, taking some comfort in the humour, however dark it may be. Sirius would be proud. 

Was this how all the sacrifices thought, in the end? Had his father thought this way?

His mother?

Harry forced himself to shut the morbid thoughts out of his head.

_ ‘And besides,’  _ he gripped the hidden item within his robes a little closer. _ ‘I’m not going down without a fight.’ _

It was about time for the forest god to make some sacrifices as well.

* * *

By the time Harry finally discovered a clearing- and this  _ had _ to be the one, considering he’d been walking all night through nothing but trees, trees, and _more_ trees- Harry was exhausted. Sweat had started trickling down his scalp a while back, and his thin clothes were now soaked from exertion. At least he didn’t smell  as awful as he felt. If anything, the oils he had been anointed with had become even more apparent with every step he took. Sniffing himself delicately, Harry tried to remember what flowers Hermione had chosen for him.

Perhaps jasmine? Lavender? Er- eucalyptus?

Who was Harry kidding- it wasn’t like he would recognize what it was. Hermione hadn’t even bothered to ask which ones he’d prefer because- well. Harry didn't even know the difference between one scent and the next. 

All he knew was that he smelled fairly good. 

He walked around the edges of the clearing, peering into the foliage to see if there were any animals closeby. At this point, now that he had made it to the clearing, the wildlife was allowed to interact with Harry- just not do him any harm. Though with the continued silence where not a rustle nor chirp was heard, Harry resigned himself to waiting in solitude.

It was alright. Harry still had a few hours until dawn.

He had time to prepare.

So he sat himself down in the middle of the clearing, kept his body relaxed and ready to react, closed his eyes, and breathed.

* * *

“You should make your way over, now.”

The god sighed, irritably pushing the meddlesome branches of the spirit tree away. “I tire of this endless cycle.”

“You know what is needed to break it.”

“And  _ you _ know why that is not possible,” he replied coldly. “I have done enough to make it so the damage is no longer as… severe, as it once was.”

The branches paused, musing, before lowering themselves insistently once more. “You should make your way over, now,” she repeated. “‘Alone, before the sky begins to-

“‘To change from black to deep blue,’” he interrupted. “Yes, yes, I know this. A millennium is quite enough time to burn that line into my memory.”

He pushed the animals that had been resting on his sides and shoulders and legs away as well. He rose, swiftly shifting forms from one moment to the next, and then he was off. He raced through the cool night air, within the forest that was his domain. 

To meet the next candidate put forward by the village.

* * *

The god already knew, from the moment he arrived at the edge of the clearing, that something was… different, this time. 

For one, the chosen one this time was calm. Unlike some of the others the god had seen, this sacrifice didn’t fumble or shiver in fear, awaiting its demise. His presence proved his bravery for how he hadn't chosen to escape through the forest to the village beyond - a tactic some candidates liked to employ during the night of safe passage. He was small- a little too small for his age. If the village still followed their tradition, the candidate chosen was always someone above the age of majority. Then why did it look as though this boy was not fed? The forest god had made certain that the village’s efforts, albeit misinformed, were recognized. There should be no shortage of any resources- food or otherwise.

He entered the clearing, still in his basilisk form, and circled the boy from a distance. What else was different?

He did not know. But he knew that there was... something there, something that didn’t quite meet the eye.

He shifted back to his human form and came closer, silencing his steps unconsciously with a wave of fae magic. Not that it would make a difference, in the end.

None of the candidates had ever been able to interact with Tom. 

So he came closer, and closer, and observed. Dark hair, he took note. Callused hands. Strangely focused in slumber… 

His head drifted lower, enticed by the soothing scent that seemed to drift off the boy. He hadn’t ever felt the need to offer a proper greeting to any of the candidates before, Tom thought in wonder. But he wanted to offer one to _him…_

His nose had just barely grazed the soft skin of his neck, when the boy sprung into action.

He snarled, tearing out the dragon claw hidden within his veil. He lunged, slashing vehemently, purposeful yet spontaneous in his movements. 

Surprised, Tom leapt back- but a single swipe snuck through his defences, dark blood welling up and dripping down his face. 

He allowed himself a moment to acknowledge the surge of pride within his very core.

_ What a worthy consort. _

But before that...

The moment the boy was once more within reach, he struck out and grabbed the offending hands. Slamming him back onto the forest floor, he gave the arms a threatening squeeze.

_"Now,"_ he hissed, serpentine tongue flicking out to lick his blood away. _"Ssshall we talk?"_

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, kudos and comments are very much appreciated (*´︶`*)♡


End file.
